When You're Gone
by MagickBeing
Summary: HD — You didn't come back this time, Harry. Through all of those fights and hexes—I never once wondered what would happen if you didn't come back...


Warnings: Hints of slash. Not your cup of tea? Then by all means, go drown yourself in something that is. Oh, and rest assured—no spoilers.  
Author notes: Yes. I live. Get over it. Oh, and happy birthday to my lovely Savannah. I hope you like it, panda bear!  
Disclaimer: Oh, come on. You know the drill—characters belong to J.K. Rowling and no copyright infringement is intended. I am not making any money off of these, obviously, else I'd be a lot more popular, eh? Oh, and lyrics belong to Avril Lavigne.

When You're Gone

I always needed time on my own.  
I never thought I'd need you there when I cry-  
and the days feel like years when I'm alone,  
and the bed where you lie  
is made up on your side.

It's been a year, Harry.

A whole year.

Can you believe it? It doesn't feel like it's been that long, but I suppose I've just been going through the motions most days, or at least, that's how it's felt.

Ever since you left, it's become much too quiet in the flat. It's that unnerving, _loud _silence that I always used to complain about—the one you never quite got—the one you said I was imagining. "How can silence be loud?" you'd say, and then tease me of being melodramatic. And then I'd turn away, mumbling something about how you just didn't understand, and how I couldn't tell you anything. Not only did I over-react, but that was a bold-faced lie and I'd give anything to hear those words right now.

I can't believe it's been a year.

I know you'd be proud of me. I finally managed to figure out how to work that muggle contraption in the living room—what did you call it? The telle? Sometimes, I turn it up really, _really _loud—like you used to do after a bad day at work. Those were the days I kept quiet about the tiny things that bothered me. The volume, for instance. I didn't understand how you could listen to that thing that loud without going deaf. I kept quiet, though, because those were the days that we seemed content with just being near each other. I remember settling down beside you and massaging the knots from your back—I remember your arms around me, pulling me close.

...mornings are the hardest.

Groggy from sleep, I'll make my way to the kitchen, start breakfast and fix coffee—five scoops, black. I hate coffee, and on the rare occassion that I do drink it, it's never that strong and always watered down with cream. I only made it like that because of you. Somehow, that thick drink always put you in a better mood.

Those are the mornings that I cry, the mornings that lead to the days that just _drag _by.

Blaise and Pansy are worried about me, Harry. They think I'm clinging to the past, that I remember too much and live too little. It's not remembering that hurts me though. It's the forgetting that always does me in.

Always...

Merlin.

Can't you see I need you?

So what if we used to fight? Every couple fights, every relationship has its problems. So what if we fought about every thing from the grocery list to whose turn it was to wash the dishes, even though we always ended up magicking them clean in the end anyway? Just.. those fights, they were always over the most trivial things, but neither of us would admit that. We were both too proud, too stubborn to apologise to each other—to take the blame—even if one of us was clearly at fault, for, the very least, starting it. Instead, we'd curse and yell and hex each other, and then you'd get up and leave, disappear for days, sometimes weeks at a time. It wasn't as if I didn't know where you went. Granger and Weasely's, no doubt. I was just too proud to go after you. I figured that, once you cooled off, things would be better again. It wasn't as if you didn't always came back. And then, when you did, we acted as if nothing had ever happened. We'd ignore the scortch marks on the walls—the damage done to our flat from hexes gone awry—and worse yet, that on our relationship. Granted, the majority of the time we couldn't even remember what we had fought about to begin with, but... it was wrong, supressing things like that. It was easy, yes, but that didn't make it right.

You didn't come back this time, Harry. Through all of those fights and hexes—I never once wondered what would happen if you didn't come back. I always assumed you'd be there for me, if I really, _really _needed you.

Well, I need you, Harry... but you're not here.

Why aren't you here? Why didn't you come back, damnit?

Why didn't you _come back?_

When you're gone,  
the pieces of my heart are missing you.  
When you're gone,  
the face I came to know is missing, too.  
When you're gone..  
the words I need to hear will always get me through the day  
and make it okay...

**I miss you.**


End file.
